


in all families

by gladdecease



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, F/M, Secrets, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/pseuds/gladdecease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are secrets in all families.  Claire tries to share one of hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in all families

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Switchbladesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switchbladesis/gifts).



> For the prompt: There are no guides to tell you how to come out as a potential vessel to your family, much less how to tell your children what could happen to them. It ended up being less "family" and more "significant others", but I hope you still enjoy it!

The first time she tried to tell someone, it went... badly.

Okay, he called her crazy and insane and a dozen other synonyms while running out of the room, grabbing his clothes as he went. "Badly" might be an understatement.

At the time Claire was devastated. Of course, at the time, Jeff had been her first and only, and she'd imagined that he was going to stay that way. Looking back on it years later, she realized that she was lucky not to be enrolled in a high school at the time, or the drama Jeff could have caused would have broken her poor teenaged heart. As it was, she sat in their hotel room and moped until check-out time the next day.

The second time, not coming spontaneously in the aftermath of one of her first orgasms, had a bit more thought behind it.

She had to go slow here. If she wasn't getting serious with a hunter - and she probably wasn't, given how completely crazy most of them were; that, and the inability to shave, was kind of a turn-off - Claire had to bear the burden of telling her boyfriend about the hunting world first. If he couldn't get past _that_ , he certainly wouldn't be able to handle the idea of angels on Earth, or their need for a vessel of certain bloodlines, _or_ that Claire and any of her children belonged to one such bloodline. So that eliminated a couple boyfriends (and her first girlfriend) without forcing Claire to revisit a very ugly time in her life.

One of her boyfriends actually got past the "monsters are out there" speech pretty quickly.

"Oh, yeah," Jesse said, slouching back in his chair. He was being pretty casual, considering the topic. "Demons and stuff, I know about that."

"You do?" Claire brightened. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Yeah, one possessed my mom for awhile."

"Mine too!" After a moment's silence, Claire added, "Which is not a good thing to have in common."

Jesse laughed. "No, I get it. It's nice to meet someone who's already been there, awful as it is."

"It really is," Claire said, smiling. She leaned in for a kiss, relishing the feeling of understanding. And, you know, the feeling of mouths touching, but that was secondary for the moment.

After a minute or five, Jesse pulled back. "Mm, wait, you said that wasn't everything?"

"Hmm?" Claire asked dreamily. Okay, so maybe the mouths touching part had gotten a little primary at some point. Her boyfriend had had six months to figure out what she liked, and he was good at what he did, what could she say. Then the words he'd said reached her brain, and she snapped out of the post-kissing daze. "Oh, right! Well, since you already know about demons, I guess this won't be that big a leap for you, but... there are angels too."

Jesse slowly sat up straight. "Makes sense," he said, nodding a little stiffly. "Though it kind of invalidates a lot of other religions."

"Actually, not really." Making an interlocking gesture with her fingers, Claire tried to remember what she'd learned during her brief stint as a hunter. (She'd liked it alright, but kind of wanted to live past thirty-five. Maybe have a kid, leave some kind of legacy beyond a "Castiel was here" stamp on her body and soul.) "It's more like they all coexist, Christianity's just more prominent because it's got more believers." Shaking her head and laughing gently, she said, "But I'm getting off topic. Angels need people's bodies to be on Earth, same as demons do, but they have some restrictions. They can only use certain people, vessels, and only if those people let them."

"Okay... what's that got to do with you?"

Claire let out a shaky breath. Here we go. "When I was a kid, an angel came to my dad, and my dad said yes. It carries through the blood, so I'm a vessel too. And any kid I have will be one too."

Jesse ran a hand through his hair, at a loss for words. "Wow. Wow, Claire, that's, that's really rough. So, uh, when you say your dad isn't around, does that mean he's - ?"

"Dead?" Claire shook her head. "Sometimes I wish. No, the angel was pulled out of my dad once, and when he took him back it was for keeps. My dad's going to be Castiel's vessel for the rest of - "

" _Castiel_?" Jesse squeaked.

Claire blinked. No, she hadn't misheard; her very serious, at times overly masculine boyfriend had actually _squeaked_. "Yes, that's the name of the angel possessing my father, why do you - "

"Wow, would you look at the time?" Jesse said brightly, staring at his watch-less wrist. "How is it already - "

"Twelve thirty?" Claire asked dryly. They'd met up for a lunch date all of ten minutes before.

"I guess time really does fly!" Jesse said, jumping out of his seat. "It was great to see you, but I've really got to be going, maybe I'll see you around sometime!" With that, he ran towards the bathrooms.

" _See you around_ \- " Claire repeated indignantly, standing up. "Jesse, what the hell? Where are you going?" When she pushed open the door to the men's room, it was empty. "...the hell?"

She never saw him again. And the last thing he did was stiff her for the tab. What a jerk.

After that, she had a string of fairly casual relationships that didn't really warrant sharing of more than names and an address to meet at. Preferably with a bed, but a couch would do. (So maybe she was a little burned by her last relationship, so maybe she was a little bitter, so sue her.) By the time she could get drunk without wanting to randomly curse Jesse out, she'd realized her bisexuality leaned more towards women. And that right there solved her problem, she thought to herself triumphantly one night. It solved it so perfectly she didn't know why she hadn't been a lesbian from the start, really! (She might have been a little drunk this night.) No babies to be had with another lady, and Claire certainly wouldn't be saying yes to angels any time soon. So long as nobody asked to meet the parents, no explanation was necessary.

Despite her inebriated state when she developed this plan, Claire found that, hungover in the morning, it still made sense. Oh, sure, she'd never get that kid she wanted in a _biological_ fashion, but there was always adoption. Or her girlfriend could be the mom, if Claire found someone she wanted to stick with. Either way, Claire was a modern woman. She knew a kid didn't have to have your genes to still be _yours_. And really, any kid of Claire's would be better off _not_ having her genes.

The fact that she wouldn't have to share - or even think about - an incredibly traumatic part of her past ever again was just a side bonus to the plan. Really.

This worked in theory until Claire got engaged.

Jo had been the one to propose. They'd treated it like a race - whose home state would be the first to legalize gay marriage? - but Claire didn't mind when she lost. The proposal was beautiful and heartfelt, and the ring was gorgeous, silver and with tiny intricate designs carved on the outside. Jo wouldn't say where she'd gotten it, just saying a friend had owed her a favor. Claire thought she recognized some of the designs, but couldn't say for sure where from. And anyway, Jo was always a little secretive about things - her friends, her past, her work. Claire didn't mind. She loved her, and she certainly wasn't one to talk about keeping secrets.

As they started preparing for the wedding, the inevitable question of family came up. Surprisingly, it was Claire who had to ask; Jo was quieter about family than Claire had ever been, something Claire hadn't thought possible. She'd been a very sullen preteen, not long after angels dropped in on her life and tore it apart, but Jo wasn't quite sullen. She was more... _angry_ , and guilty somehow, when she finally showed Claire a picture of her parents.

"My dad died when I was a kid," she said quietly. "And my mom died because of me."

"I'm sorry," Claire said, wrapping a hand around her waist. "My dad's been gone since I was a kid too. My mom... she was never the same without him."

Jo put a hand on Claire's and laced their fingers together. She turned to look at Claire and a small smile crossed her face. "Do you have a picture? If I can't meet them, I'd like to see the people who raised you."

"I... yes, somewhere, I think I have one." It took a few hours of digging to find the picture - a stiff, formal family portrait from their tenth anniversary, all three of them in their starched and ironed Sunday best. A far sight from the happy, smiling couple standing proudly in front of a bar in Jo's picture. Still, Claire spent a long time staring at it before she handed it to Jo.

Immediately, an odd look crossed Jo's face. "When you say your dad is 'gone'..."

Claire snorted, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. People always focused on her word choice there. Sometimes she wished she could lie properly; people wouldn't think twice if she could just say 'My father's dead,' rather than the truth. "It's a long story. You won't believe it."

"Try me," Jo said.

So Claire did. She spelled out the whole thing - from her father hearing voices to her own terrifying fifteen minutes of angelic possession, from her mother's psychological collapse in the aftermath to the place of honor her father's face has on the FBI's Most Wanted list - practically telling her entire life's story in the process, getting more vocal and dramatic as she went on and Jo just watched her, calm as anything. And at the end, when she'd said everything, Jo said:

"I believe it."

Claire sputtered. " _How_ can you possibly believe that? There are days _I_ barely believe it, and it happened to me!"

Jo just started unbuttoning her shirt. "You know how I said my mom died because of me? Well, truth is, she died _with_ me." She pulled up her undershirt, revealing scars Claire had seen and touched too many times to count, but never questioned. (It hadn't been her place to, not with scars of her own she didn't want to talk about.) "These scars are from hell hounds tearing me apart. I was dying, but friends of mine had to keep going, so Mom and I stayed back as the distraction. We blew up the hell hounds and ourselves, and that's the last thing I remember until five years ago, when an angel with your father's face pulled me out of Hell."

Claire blinked heavily a few times. "Oh," she managed.

Jo grinned, though there wasn't much amusement in the expression. "Yeah, I've had a pretty strange life myself."

"You can say that again," Claire said weakly. Leaning heavily on her fiancee, she thought aloud, "I guess I don't have to tell you about being a vessel, then."

"Nah," Jo said gently, an arm wrapping around Claire's shoulder. "Those friends of mine were vessels too, I kind of know how it works."

"Good," Claire said, hiding her smile in Jo's shoulder. "I'm tired of explaining it."


End file.
